


Magnetized

by somanyhorcruxes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, familiar!Cas, witch!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyhorcruxes/pseuds/somanyhorcruxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean may not believe in that voodoo superstition stuff, but he's pretty sure that that black cat crossing his path did something freaky to him. He doesn't know if it's bad luck or good luck, but he somehow gets the feeling that his life isn't going to be the same. He may not be a cat person, but in this case he just might make an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the lovely and talented [Shannon_Kind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_Kind/pseuds/Shannon_Kind)! <3

The fluorescent lights are bugging the shit out of her. All of the sterile, boring objects that fill the room just look even more bland and dreary thanks to the worst lighting ever invented. Really, was it so much to ask for better things to surround her while she pushed a human being out of her hooha? 

“All right Mary, just one more push,” Dr. Francis says encouragingly. 

It’s not encouraging. She wants to punch the fucker in the face for making it sound like a simple task. When really her whole lower half feels like it’s about to split apart.

“Kick it in the ass babe,” John nods at her while he squeezes her hand tightly.

Mary’s whole body tenses as she braces herself.

“Ahhhhhh!” Mary screams gutturally as she forces her son into the world with one final push.

At 1:35 am on January 24th, 1979 baby Winchester comes into the world screaming along with his mother. The nurse carries him over to a table to clean him up and swaddle him in a blanket. Carefully, Dr. Francis picks him back up and puts the baby into Mary’s arms.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Winchester on your beautiful boy. Does he have a name yet?”

Mary looks down at her son. She did have a name already picked out. Looking down at her baby boy though, she definitely did not see a Samuel. What she did see was blond hair, green eyes, a smattering of freckles and - something. Mary feels a presence of energy she has not felt since her mother’s passing. No, this boy has Deanna written all over him. She breaks out into a grin.

“Dean,” Mary says, smile bright, “Dean Winchester.”

__________________________________________________________________________

October 31st, 1982  
Lawrence, Kansas

The blood curdling scream tore through her like someone was squeezing her insides. 

“Dean!!” Mary screamed as she ran outside. “Dean where are you?”

“M-m-mom?” Dean squeaked out through his quivering lips.

Mary ran into the backyard to see Dean sprawled on the ground clutching his arm in obvious pain.

“Dean what did you do sweetie? Are you alright?” Mary questions hurriedly. She kneels beside her son, inspecting his arm gingerly with her hands.

“I was climbing the tree,” Dean sniffs and pauses to wipe his nose on his batman costume.

Mary narrows her eyes at her son but continues to press on his arm to see if it might be fractured or worse. She would scold him later for playing out back in the tree, when he was supposed to be safe inside waiting to go out trick-or-treating. His arm doesn’t seem to be broken, just scratched, bleeding a little and expectedly sore.

“I was-I was climbing the tree when I saw a cat! The cat looked at me, I was gonna climb down and say hi, but it ran away! So-so I jumped so I could catch it, but I hurt my arm. It feels better though--” Dean looked over her shoulder, “Mom look!” 

Dean was pointing somewhere towards the treeline so she whipped her head around and caught a glimpse of what must be “the cat” that caused her son to jump out of a tree. A jet black cat was looking right at Dean, it glanced at Mary and then bolted in the other direction.

“Dean let’s get you inside and cleaned up before we go out trick or treating. Are you feeling okay enough to go still?”

“Mommy I told you I feel better! I don’t need any band aids or anything!”

“You’re bleeding sweetheart, you’re definitely going to need-”

“No Mom! Look at my arm it’s fine!”

Mary sighs and kneels down to humor her son. She takes his arm in her hands and sees-nothing. His arm doesn’t have a single scratch on it, the bruising is all gone. The only evidence left of the injury is some dried blood. There had been signs before. Hell, she had felt it from the first time she held Dean in her arms. She was not about to let Dean see the look of worry on her face so she pulled him into a tight hug. When she pulls back she puts her best smile on and reaches out to touch Dean’s face.

“I told you! I’m all better! It’s like magic!” Dean beams up at her.

“Oh hunny, I don’t think it was magic,” Mary says with concern in her eyes.

“You’re right! It’s because,” he pauses dramatically and strikes his best superhero pose,”I’m batman!”

__________________________________________________________________________

May 4th, 2008  
Pontiac, Illinois

Inhaling dirt is bugging the shit out of him. He’s smart enough to not open his eyes but he can’t stop himself from inhaling every once in a while. His fingers are wet, probably bleeding, as he keeps digging up. He feels like a fucking earthworm. Not a minute later he wriggles his fingers expecting to grasp more dirt and he feels - air. He squeezes his shoulders up out of the dirt painfully and finally, finally he forces his head through the last layer of dirt to take a deep breath.

Dean knows he’s never been amazing at math but he’s pretty sure that 226 days was sure as hell, pun intended, a lot shorter than the eternity he signed on for. As he pulls his lower body out of the grave and stands he shakes his head. He rubs the dirt out of his eyes, looks around his surroundings and mutters, “Dammit Sammy, what did you do?”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean walks about half a mile before he comes across an abandoned gas station. He doesn't spare a second thought as he breaks the glass of the door to get inside. Glancing around, his eyes land on a cooler filled with water. Yes! He chugs about two bottles before catching sight of a mirror. After eight months of excruciating torture, the sight of his body whole and without scars is unimaginable. Yet, when he walks over to the mirror and lifts up his dirt laden shirt, that's exactly what he sees. There are no open wounds, no dangling bits of flesh.

“What the hell?” Dean murmurs as he continues to inspect for any signs of the torment his body had been through, even before hell. There’s nothing. There’s a very faint rustling of sound, but Dean hears it. Dropping his shirt back down, he nonchalantly walks over to pick up a jagged piece of glass and walks slowly towards the source. As he rounds towards the small office in the back his eyes fall on something furry. 

Dean sneezes so hard it shakes his body. Lowering his makeshift weapon he steps forward to get a better look at whatever it is. The furry creature, which he now sees and knows is a cat, gazes at him curiously. Taking in its appearance he can tell the cat is a little worse for wear. The cat’s jet black fur is standing up in all directions, like it had been in some sort of tussle. Its appearance reminds Dean of some pre-teen chick show Sammy used to watch.

“Hey there, Salem,” okay maybe Dean watched a few episodes.

The cat continues to stare at Dean, but tilts its head almost in response to the name.

Clearing his itchy throat, Dean starts, “Hey look man, I’m not sure what the hell is going on around here, but this might not be the best place for a cat, so uh. Um, maybe you should find a new place to break in and stare at folks.”

To further his point he makes a shooing motion right in front of the cat’s face. Salem barely registers a blink in response. Dean however, sneezes for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Whatever dude, if you want to stay here don’t let me stop you,” Dean shrugs and walks over to the cash register.

He finds the no sale button and presto! There’s some petty cash that will hopefully get him enough gas to get to Sioux Falls. Dean grabs a plastic bag from under the counter and turns to head towards the snacks. What do you know, Salem has followed him and is still intently staring at him with those disturbingly blue eyes. 

Dean knows he needs to get a move on. He should be grabbing some snacks and hitting the road, leaving this cat behind. The thing is, he doesn’t want to. It’s no secret that Dean loathes cats. They’re stuck up, moody little balls of fur and to top it off they make him want to scratch his face off. He doesn’t really understand it, but he feels this connection to Salem. Maybe because they’re both alone in this abandoned shithole. Maybe it’s because Salem looks as beat up as he feels. Maybe he’s going insane. He can’t explain it. All he knows is he doesn’t have time to sit here and wax philosophical about why he wants to adopt a damn cat right now. 

Chips, jerky, mini pies, some water and antihistamines are haphazardly thrown into a bag as Dean makes his way towards the door. Salem is of course right on his heels, so he holds the door open for him as he passes through. There’s a passable car right out at pump number three. Dean opens the driver side door, sits down sideways and exposes the wires he needs to start the car. As soon as he hears the purr of the engine he stands up and stares down at Salem.

Salem is looking back at him in earnest, but silent and still as ever. Dean knows he’s a cat, but damn if those aren’t the biggest puppy eyes he’s ever seen. Dean stares back at Salem for what feels like an hour before nodding towards the open car door.

“Well,” Dean says expectantly, “Are you coming?”

Salem makes what sounds like a stinted purring noise, leaps into the car and sits primly on the passenger seat. 

Dean climbs into the drivers seat, smirking. He mutters, “Okay then,” and pushes the gas pedal to the floor.

__________________________________________________________________________

A little over an hour has passed before Dean spots a payphone. He fills up the tank and gets some change before making his way over to the phone. The final clink of the change prompts him to finally start dialing. Eight calls later he’s still got nothing. All of Sam’s numbers go straight to voicemail, as do Bobby’s. Luckily Bobby’s cell for strictly Sam and Dean calls has an informative message with the location of his current hunt; Kissimmee, Florida. With more questions than he started out with Dean climbs back in the car.

Dean runs his hands over his face. He needs to sleep but doesn’t have enough money for a motel and gas money. There are about seven hours left before they’d reach Sioux Falls, maybe seven if he really guns it. Dean sucks some air through his teeth and glances over at Salem. The cat had been sleeping but is now alert and gazing at him with his patented head tilt.

“Sit tight Salem, we’ve got a ways more to go,” Dean says with a sigh.

His body and mind are weary, but having Salem next to him is somehow soothing. He glances over at the cat, who looks like he’s battling consciousness. Reaching over to pet the cat’s head, Dean pulls back out onto the open road and floors it.


End file.
